The Preston File
by everythingjd
Summary: After being dragged to the "it" party of the year, Emerson Reed has more than a few stories to tell. Her eventful night haunts her as a mystery man by the name of James Preston, who finds her in a bad situation sparks her interest. This conflicting man continues to weave his way into her life, but she isn't sure if she approves. Will she ignore his outreach or will she pursue him?
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1. **

"We haven't moved in over fifteen minutes, Char."

One by one the red break lights of the cars in front of them flickered off as each shifted into park. So much for a night filled with loud music, chilled liquored drinks, and being engulfed into a crowd of complete strangers. Emerson rolled her eyes sighing at the thought. None of it even sounded the least bit enticing, but she had agreed to go and had spent the last two hours dedicating her time to sitting in front of a mirror. She was not about to waste all her patience and hard work on her appearance to turn back around.

"Em, you're being dramatic." Charlotte said paying no attention to the world around her. Her mind was drowned in the tiny light from her smartphone as her thumb scrolled vigarously upward.

Meet Charlotte Everton, her best friend, a wannabe socialite, and soon to be journalism graduate. She was every bit the spitting image of what a goddess should look like. Long blonde hair, high cheek bones, flawless skin, and blue eyes that mesmerized any soul she came in contact with. It was hard to compete with someone so stunning and beautiful as her, but don't tell her that. She had made that mistake one too many times before and received the lecture of how beauty was only in the eye of the beholder. Everyone had their own sense of beauty and we are all different in how we flaunted it, blah, blah, blah. Emerson had it heard all before.

From the ripe age of ten years old, they had been inseperable. As they grew through their teenage years and welcomed young adulthood, they found themselves attached at the hip. Despite the obvious differences in personalities, style, and outlook on life, they were every bit perfect for one another. It was a friendship that was meant to be and would go down in the books. Emerson honestly didn't know what she would do without Charlotte and vice versa. But as they continued to sit in the town car Charlotte had called for them to be picked up in, she was becoming more annoyed with her best friend by the minute. Only she would talk her into attending a party that was way out of both their leagues.

"Twenty minutes." Emerson mentioned and crossed her arms.

"Hold on." Charlotte raised her free hand and continued to scroll through her phone like her life depended on it.  
Staring down at her arms, she tugged on the material that rested on her breasts and pulled it up. The little number she had on was beyond anything she would ever wear or buy. Fresh from the closet of Charlotte Everton, she had been bullied into wearing a white spaghetti strapped dress. If she had it her way, she would have thrown on her jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt, but this wasn't just some casual party. This was the party of the year or the century as Charlotte put it. Anyone who was anyone would be here, even the young, rich, and famous were rumored to be attending. She didn't want to be around any of those people, she didn't care, but this was for Charlotte and so she would suck up a few hours of fake laughter and conversations.

"I can't believe we are crashing this party." She mumbled.

"Not crashing." She was corrected. "Attending."

"We weren't exactly invited." Emerson stated and looked over at her.

Charlotte now held her phone with both hands and read something, while saying, "Yes, but we don't need an invitation." Her voice was filled with excitement and hope. "We are girls. That's all that matters, so stop hiding the goods away Reed and let your boobs do their job."

Tightening her arms around her body, Emerson looked back down at her barely there cleavage she was trying to not have and pulled the material of the dress down. A unpleasant moan escaped her as she hated thinking about using her body to persuade the male form. It was disgusting, but somehow it worked. Maybe it was because most men were pigs. The few that weren't were hard to find in this universe. She had yet to find them too.

"We're walking. Now." Charlotte ordered and threw her phone into her purse. She swung the door open of the car and flew out. It took her a few seconds to catch up and realize that she was serious. Out on the street, she straightened her dress and flattened it to her body. "Apparently, there was a fight. Damn, I can't believe I missed it." She moaned.

Tonight wasn't just about going to the "it" party. It was about getting the scoop and spilling the dirt for all to read. Charlotte had ulterior motives. Being the journalism major that she was, she knew what she had to do to make it in the business and under the pressure of her internship she was determined. Each of them were assigned for the semester to find the best story they could and in Charlotte's eyes this was it. Somewhere beyond the gates of wherever they were going, she would or so she hoped. Emerson deep down hoped she would too, but was not as enthralled by the idea as she was. While Char wanted to write what went in the papers, she wanted to read and edit it. That was her place in life.  
As their heels clicked on the cement pavement and they passed cars filled with impatient people waiting, Emerson could already feel her feet hating her for agreeing to this. She wasn't sure how far they were from the party, but it was far enough to make the night even more unbearable.

From what Charlotte had informed her on, they were in the green light district. She saw this as a metaphor for money, but to her surprise she learned it meant green for anything goes and it made sense. She could smell the illegal substances in the air. The music and bass were set on high shaking everything in its path. People of age or not held drinks in their hands walking the streets without a second thought, while not a single law enforcement was in sight. Whether it was done intentionally or not, it seemed the place had a permanent get out of jail free card. It was known for its craziness and lavish parties, but not once was there any mention of problems to be had or least none that were reported. She had a funny feeling what happened in the green light district stayed in the green light district, except herpes.

"How much farther?" Emerson whined.

"Two more blocks. Stop whining. Loosen up Reed." Charlotte snapped.

Reed. The only time she had ever heard her last name was when Charlotte was either irritated with her or demanded something. Besides teachers and formal occasions, no one called her that, but her and she really didn't like it.

"I can turn around and leave right now Everton." She argued and played her game.

"Oh stop that!" Charlotte groaned. "Please, I swear it won't be that bad."

She halted in her tracks and she noticed. "Please Emerson, I'm sorry." Charlotte apologized. "It's just this is really important to me and I just want to find something here tonight that's worth writing about. I don't want to do this alone. I need you."

"I know this is." Emerson nodded her head and smiled. "Come on, let's go."

"Boobs out." She teased shaking her chest.

Bowing her head in embarrassment, she mimicked her and linked arms as they strutted down the next two blocks. As they turned the corner, they both stopped in awe at what they saw. A million lights shined and twinkled outside the three-story brick mansion. People danced on balconies and hung from windows shouting at the people below. The lawn was trashed with empty bottles and glasses. Techno music blared from easily fifty speakers. It was a complete nightmare or heaven depending on how you viewed it.

"Find your story and lets go." She shouted in Charlotte's ear.

Within minutes of walking up to the house and through the open doors, they were seperated. Emerson snaked through the crowds of dancing people and tried not to stick out like a sore thumb. She scanned the rooms looking for Charlotte, but it was next to impossible to try and find her. There were just too many people confined to not a big enough space. How anyone really thought this was enjoyable was beyond her? Only being inside for a few minutes, she felt the urge to breathe fresh air and she bolted for the back door. Outside it wasn't any different on the patio.

"Hey baby." A drunk man walked past her and tapped her ass.

Emerson cringed and felt her face grow warm. She didn't want any hands touching her. The slimy comments she could take, but the physical flirting was where she drew the line. Biting her tongue from yelling at him knowing he probably wouldn't remember anyways, she continued onward. Maybe she did need to loosen up and try to enjoy herself, but it was hard to when this was just simply not her scene.

"Emerson!"

Spinning around she saw Charlotte emerging from a crowd of people to her right. The eyes of every male in sight followed her. "There you are. Holy crap this is insane!" She shouted.

"I know. Find anything yet?" She asked.

"Just did my rounds. Now its time to sit back and wait." Her face lit up and she grabbed two cups off a tray filled with drinks. "Drink up buttercup."

"I'm good." Emerson pushed the cup away. "Shouldn't you stay sober? You know being on the job and all?"

"I need to blend in. That's the key. Blend in and the story will come to me." Charlotte rambled. "Stand out and we will be here all night."

All night? This looked like a party that would never end and she much rather be in her bed sooner rather and later. Taking the cup from her hand, she dumped what was in it on the ground and decided to take Charlotte's advice on blending in. It wasn't long before a continuous line of guys headed their way all obsessing over Charlotte and her goddess like body. Without hesitation, she had just become her shadow, just like she always had.

"If I wasn't working..." She started and bit her lip.

"You are not going home with any of these sleeze balls. I repeat you are not going home with any of them. You hear me?" Her voice was stern. "I mean it Everton."

"Same goes for you." Charlotte nodded her head and waved at a passing guy.

Emerson laughed. "You're funny. Like I would ever do anything like that." She shook her head in disgust.

No matter what she was told by her friends or family, she never saw herself as beautiful or desirable. Hell, she wasn't ugly, but she was just average. It was hard to compete when she was always around someone who was so strikingly gorgeous for anyone to notice her. And it wasn't like she wanted to throw herself out there for everyone to see, but it did hurt not to feel the desire that Charlotte was drowned in. Emerson blushed at the thought of how innocent she was amongst the people who screamed anything but.

"Whose that?" Charlotte asked in her ear and pointed over the edge of the patio.

Her eyes took awhile to adjust to the lights and landed on the tall man dressed in a white button up shirt and black slacks. He stood alone with his hands in his pockets and observing the crowd much like them. Fellow reporter maybe? No, he didn't fit the part. He just seemed so out of place compared to everyone else. Immediately, she knew Charlotte had found what she was looking for.

"Be right back." She tapped her shoulder and off she went. "Text me if you need me."

What was she going to do, watch him from every angle? Follow him around the party all night? Go up to him and play twenty questions? Whatever her plan was she knew it was going to take awhile and so she lost interest. Before turning away, she glanced at him one last time. From where she stood, he appeared handsome, but something was off about the guy. Not dressed in party attire, he just didn't seem to care to engage in the wild and crazy antics. So why was he here at all? She could ask herself that same question, but she knew the answer to that already.

Finding herself wanting to get away from the madness, she walked out into the lawn where the crowd thinned. Eventually less and less people were gathered around and then none. At the edge of the lawn and around a tree bank, she found the closest thing to peace and quiet all night. The moon shined bright and full overhead. The shore of the lake that sat behind the mansion was still. It was actually quite beautiful and she understood why people would want to live here. She just wished it wasn't for all the wrong reasons.

Emerson bent down and relieved herself from the pain of her shoes, and stepped into the dirt and sand. It felt good beneath her toes and she smiled. Charlotte would have to see this for herself. Who knew such a place existed amongst the parties that stretched out for a mile in the green light district?

While Charlotte was on her mission, she figured she would spend her time here reflecting on whatever came to mind, instead of trying to blend in to a group of drunk people she did not care for. She was careful to watch her time and not let herself get too carried away. Eventually she would have to head back and pull the plug on the night. The idea of watching the sunrise sounded better than actually seeing it happen.

"No, we will just have to move to it Monday morning." A voice of a man on the phone startled her and she grabbed her shoes quickly.

A few feet down the shore someone emerged from the trees and stepped out. She had a moment of panic. Should she stay or should she go? It was nice being alone, but now that she had company she didn't like the idea of her vulnerability and so far away from the party. Not like it mattered. Even if something awful happened to her here, it wasn't like anyone cared. The thought of what had been conducted at these sort of events made her sick. How many people had suffered from something they had no control over knowing nothing would ever be done?

"Tuesday morning works too." The man spoke again. He paused for a second. "Damn it, I don't care when it is! Just scheduled it and forward me the date. I don't have time for this shit."

The light from his phone could be seen as he ended his call and shook his head. As she peered over, she became aware who had joined her out on the shore of the lake. White shirt, black pants, it was him. The man who didn't fit in had found his way out here. Emerson wondered if Charlotte was somewhere nearby.

He turned his head in her direction as he placed his phone into his pant's pocket. Shit! She had been spotted and now she didn't know if she should make a break for it or pretend to blend in. How hard could it be to pretend you were drunk and wondered off away from the party?

"Hey." His voice travelled in her direction.

"Hey." She answered back.

What the hell? Maybe it was a natural reaction, but she hated that she had just invited the idea of a stranger to interact with her in a secluded area where no one could hear her scream. Actually no one could hear her scream for miles if she wanted to. She put her guard up instantly.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" He remarked.

Emerson smiled and nodded. Whether he could see her reaction or not, she was ready to burst through the line of trees if she had to. Why she was so on edge, she didn't know, but she really wished Charlotte would show up? She was following him, right?

The only response she gave was the nod of her head and her inching her way back up the shore.

"Too bad the rest of the world back there is too intoxicated to notice it." He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets.  
The silent treatment continued. Maybe if x turn on Sirishe didn't say anything he would grow bored and leave or worse. She didn't like to think so negatively, but seeing as her best defense was the spikes of her heels, she was ready to take action if necessary. So far, the mystery guy from patio seemed harmless.

"You don't say much, do you?"

"No, I just don't know you." Emerson mumbled. Apparently her words were loud enough for him to hear even with the noise in the background creeping close to maximum level.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him react and he bowed his head. Had her remark left him bent? She honestly hadn't meant to say it out loud, but it just escaped her. His stance seemed less friendly and he peered over his shoulder back at the party. She followed his gaze and saw the dancing lights strobe rhythmically. High pitched girlish voices shouted and the music revved into some sultry beat.

"I see you wish to be left alone." He spoke noting her attempts to steer clear of him. "Have a good night."

And just like that he disappeared into the tree line and out of sight. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and waited a few minutes letting him get a head start before she too made her way back up to the party. Forcing her heels back on her sore feet, she stomped through the grass with her arms crossed. It was time to end operation Charlotte.

In the time she spent by the lake, it seemed the crowd had multiplied and finding Charlotte was as tricky as ever. She dug for her phone and texted her knowing this would be the fastest way to find her instead of pushing herself through scenarios she didn't want to get caught up in. "Hey baby. Don't look so sad." A slurring voice whispered in her ear and she smelled the liquor on the man's breath. She stepped away from him, but his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her in. Emerson quickly placed her hands on his chest pushing him away.  
"I'm fine. Please if you could let go." She uttered.

Manners or not, it didn't matter what she ordered, he was drunk and strong and dominating her. His head dipped for her neck as his wet, nasty lips kissed and sucked on it. She pleaded for him to stop. Her eyes scanned the crowd hoping to find someone who would notice her attempt to free herself from his hold. No one cared though. Even amongst others, no one paid attention to their surroundings and she felt like she was going to be sick. His hand on her waist fell down her back and she jumped as his rough hand felt the bare skin of her thigh.

"Fucking stop!" She shouted and punched his chest.

"You like it rough, don't you?" He slurred. "Give in baby. No one will see us."

"I'm not your fucking baby! Get off you sick fuck!" Emerson cursed.

Nothing she did helped though, he was determined and she wasn't breaking free from her hold. Panic erupted inside her knowing where this was leading and she felt the tears in her eyes form. No, not her, not here. This wasn't happening. His hand moved dangerously closer to the place between her legs and she squeezed her thighs together not letting him go any further. She pushed as hard as she could and shouted hoping and praying someone would come to her rescue. She felt so exposed and betrayed. She felt dirty and violated. This was really happening. In this moment, she cursed Charlotte under her breath.

"Hey douche bag." A low voice in the night startled her and the grotesque man was peeled off her. Emerson watched as her molester stumbled to the ground as he was pushed away. The prayers she called out had been answered. Someone had noticed. Someone had cared and that someone was the same man in his white shirt and black dress slacks, who looked beyond pissed.

"Are you okay?" He asked stepping toward her. She shook not knowing what to say or do.

"What the fuck man?" The guy on the ground shouted. "You mother fucking cock block."

His jaw tensed and he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. With one swift motion, he yanked the guy up by the collar of his shirt and threw a punch hard. Emerson gasped. The guy laughed it off as he touched his face. The mystery man from before repeated his actions and hit him again, and again, and again until she saw blood.

"Stop you're going to kill him." She protested.

He stood up wiping his face and snapped, "He was going to rape you!" His eyes blazed with fire and almost passion. She trembled as he towered over her and examined his stone cold face. Beautiful blue eyes stared back at her. For the first time since she laid eyes on the man who Charlotte had notedly pointed out, she saw how young and handsome he was.  
Over the noise, he spoke more calmly, "I saw him all over you." He admitted. "I could see it in your eyes that the feeling wasn't mutual. I thought he was going to rape you right here in the open." His tone turned disgusted by the situation. "I had to stop him."

"Thank you." Emerson blurted out. "If you hadn't, he probably would have."

Just the thought made her stomach flip and she felt dizzy. A strong hand on the back of her arm steadied her. He walked her over the nearest place to sit down.

"How much have you had to drink?" He asked.

"None." She answered. "I'm just sick thinking about what if..."

The fact was it had almost happened and it scared the shit out of her. She never thought something so vile could occur and here she was visiting the aftermath of what if. Her eyes raised up to meet his. Out of anyone here, it had to be him that rescued her. He had to be the one that cared and now she felt bad for being so rude to him earlier.

"You don't go to these sort of things, do you?" He inquired.

"Is it that obvious?" Emerson replied. "I was dragged here by a friend, who I can't find."

"Maybe I can help. What does she look like?"

Emerson looked at her phone again. No response. Now she was beginning to worry about Charlotte. "Blonde. Tall. Gorgeous." She described her very plainly. "Probably has a group of guys following her around like lost puppies."  
"That's not much help." He laughed.

"I'm sure she'll show up." She shrugged. "You really don't have to help me find her. Go! Enjoy your night. I'll try to make the best of what's left of mine."

"I'm not leaving you alone after what just happened." He argued. "Who knows what sick fuck might try to move in next?"

Sick fuck? Those were her words. Emerson watched as he suddenly became territorial over her. It was sweet, but she barely knew him. She didn't need a bodyguard. All she needed was Charlotte to show up so they could get out of here. She debated whether she should share her incident with her or not.

"I'll be fine." Emerson assured him.

"You think your friend is the only one who has a group of guys drooling over her?" He noted scanning the party. "I could point out easily five right now who have been eyeing you since we sat down."

She quickly looked around intrigued by his observation, but could not point out a single male soul who was captivated by her. What the hell was he talking about? "You clearly don't know my friend." Emerson mumbled. "She is a guy magnet."

"And clearly you underestimate yourself." He spoke directly to her causing her to hold her breath again. "You're beautiful. What guy wouldn't be interested in you?"

Did he just call her beautiful? She felt the threat of warmth rushing to her cheeks. No one had said that to her, at least not from the opposite sex and her Dad didn't count. She couldn't tell if he was just being nice or he too had ulterior motives. Emerson laughed.

"So where are they?" She asked looking over her shoulder. "Because I don't see them."

The corner of his mouth twitched in to a smirk. She felt her heart flutter. The only beautiful person she saw here amongst the craziness surrounding them was him. Something was shifting between them.

"Well it's probably because I'm sitting with you." He mentioned. Oh, so he was cocky. She rolled her eyes. "And the fact that I just beat the shit out of the last fucker that tried anything with you is probably another reason why no one is approaching."

Still on the ground, the guy laid making small movements. From where they sat, he looked like he was in bad shape and she had feared that her mystery knight would go too far. She was glad he hadn't, but she was happy he got what he deserved too. Her eyes scanned the area again and this time she saw the questioning stares that were made in their direction. Apparently, violence stirred the crowd, but a poor girl in distress left them blind. It was disgusting.

"Hey." He said softly. "Are you okay?"

Emerson shook at the thought of what if again and shivered from the night time air.

"I'll be fine." She smoothed out the material on her dress. Her phone still had no response from Charlotte. What the hell was she up to?

"I'm James by the way." He introduced himself.

"Emerson." She replied.

"Emerson." James stated her name. "I can't say I've meant many of you in my life."

The sound of her name coming from his mouth made her squirm. What was it with this guy? This was so foreign to be talking to someone as handsome as he and not feel like dirt. He was genuine and casual. Much like her, he too didn't seem to be part of the crowd.

This really doesn't seem like your thing either." She noted.

"It's not." His face dropped and his eyes scanned the crowd around them. "I'm looking for my little sister."

"Your little sister? Here?" Emerson questioned his reason.

His mouth grew into a fine line upon his face, while his still fingers began to tap his thighs impatiently. "She knows better then to sneak out and come here," he sighed. The comment seemed to spark something transforming more irritation than worry across his ever changing expression.

"Don't let me keep you then." She rose smoothing her dress nervously. "Go look for her. I'll be fine. My friend will show up soon."

"And what kind of man would I be if I left you, who was just nearly taken advantage of, to fend for yourself amongst this incoherent sea of people?" He barked appearing genuinely displeased with himself at the thought. "I'll stay with you until you find your friend. You have tried to reach her, right?"

"Yes. She isn't responding though." Emerson shook her head.

His sister was somewhere amongst this crowd and yet, he stayed put with her. It wasn't logical. If anything, after what had just happened he should be bolting through every crowd and room on the property trying to find her. Lord knows what other vermon lurked around seeking weak girls.

"But your sister..."

"Will be reprimanded for her stupidity and lack of judgement." Nothing was sentimental about his statement. His tone tight and firm as he spoke. "I have people on it. They'll find her and trust me, I don't think me finding her right now would end well."

People. What people? Was he not alone? Had he brought friends to track down his disobeying sister? The hot headed man that showed himself only minutes before had returned with a bitter tone and a scowl that even made her feel like she was about to be the one reprimanded for her actions. Somehow he had this strange affect on her. One that was unpleasantly new. She watched him as his frustration of the topic grew. Being an only child, she never had the chance to interact with a sibling. She never knew what it was like to have an overprotective older brother like James was proving to be. It was hard to relate to the matter at hands , and so she sat back down and checked her phone. With no message from Charlotte, her fingers dashed desperately across the keyboard sending her S.O.S. message once more. Honestly, if anyone was going to be reprimanded tonight, it would be Charlotte for dragging her to such nonsense.  
In the midst of her plea and the thumping music, James phone rang. "Did you find her? Where?" He shouted. "I'm on the patio. I'll meet you at the...on the patio. No." His patience was growing thin. "For fucks sake, I'll just text you."

"Is everything okay?" She asked.

Before she could get confirmation from his confusing phone call, a tall, dark skinned man in a suit stomped toward them. Next to him in his hold was a tiny sun kissed girl, who appeared wasted and angered. Her small fists pounded on him, but she was no match for his strength. James stood up as they stopped in front of them towering over the girl. Watching her try to break free sent a ghostly reminder of how she must have looked when that douche bag had grabbed her. Only he didn't keep his hands to himself.

"You looked wrecked." James stated with his eyebrows furrowed and shaking his head like a disappointed parent.  
"Fuck you James!" The tiny girl shouted. This must have been his sister, yet they did not strike any resemblance. "Fuck you and your fucking minions coming after me."

"Shae, please take Katherine to the car." He ordered the tall man. "I'll be there shortly."

Katherine did not appear to be any older than she was. She had long strawberry blonde curls that looked effortlessly styled. She wore a dress that hugged her so tight leaving nothing to the imagination. Her makeup was excessive and was smudged under her eyes that happened to catch sight of her momentary observation.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" She cursed at her. "Oh I see, I can't have fun, but you can? Go ahead and fuck your little slut friend before you punish me like a fucking child. Don't play the holy card with me, James. I know you're games."

Games? So he was a player. How was the sweet man she had just talked to now being viewed as the manwhore his sister was portraying him to be? Or was it just the anger talking?

"Shae, car now!" He ordered not letting her spew any more accusations out of her filthy mouth.

"Ugh, let go of me!" She screeched as the man picked her up and dragged her through the busy bodies and out of sight.  
Well this night had been one thing after another. Slut? Really? Emerson yanked on the material of her dress trying to hide any bit of possible giveaway that she might be one, even though she was far from that. That was the first time she had ever been called such a vile term and to say the least, she didn't like it. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. Who was he?

"I'm so sorry you had to witness that. Please excuse my sister." He apologized. "She can be very sweet, just not when she's under the influence and being forced to go home."

"If you say so," she mumbled.

"Emerson!" The sound of Charlotte's voice caught her ear. She spun around to see her pushing through the crowd. "I got your text. Everything okay?"

Instantly, her radar was ticking as she looked from her to James, who stood like a statue not saying a word. Oh no, what was going on in Charlotte's head? The theories, situations, and thoughts she came up with scared her sometimes. She shifted her gaze over at him briefly trying to take in what message Charlotte could get from him. He appeared masked with emotions, but controlled.

"I'm fine." She lied knowing she wouldn't by it. Quickly, she asked, "Did you find your story?"

Charlotte scanned her eyes back and forth between them. Something was boiling inside that head of hers and as she nodded her head yes, she knew her masterpiece for the paper had started brewing. But her small excitement faded as she focused on her dropping her face into a concerned look. "What happened?"

What happened? How about too much uninvited excitement that had stumbled into her life in one night, that's what happened, but she wasn't about to dive into the details with her here. Not with the chaos going on around them. Not with him standing here looking like a Greek God wanting to say something, but was debating his thought. What was it? Was it his excuse to leave and go to deal with his sister? Another apology? Or a blushing comment of her striking appearance that he had seemed to notice? She didn't know. Once again, he was nothing more than the mystery man on the patio. A mystery she secretly wanted to solve.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2.**

Carefully, her eyes were fixated on nothing in particular as she held her coffee mug in her hands and lost herself in thought. The tapping sound of Charlotte's fingers hitting a keyboard rhytmically played in the background as the warmth of her cup steamed up her imagination. Emerson drifted back in time as she tried to remember every inch and imperfection of his face. His cool, intense gaze that scanned her leaving her feeling small and shy. His strong structure of a body that stood like stone. His pale pink lips that spoke casually, yet boldly remarking her appearance in a way she never thought she considered herself to be. _You're beautiful. _She shivered at his compliment. The corners of her lips rose at the thought.

"What are you smirking about over there?" Charlotte observed from over her laptop screen and through her reading glasses.

"Nothing." She erased her mind of him almost immediately and sipped her coffee.

"Didn't look like nothing," she responded. Her eyes went back to the screen and her fingers tapped violently this time. "Are you sure it wasn't because of a certain mysterious hot guy you ran into last night?"

_Yes!, _her inward thoughts screamed. "No," Emerson confirmed. "I was just lost in thought is all."

Charlotte halted her typing and raised an eyebrow in her direction. Ever since last night, she had been questioning who he was and what had happened. Her attempts to change the topic were becoming more difficult by the minute, as she knew it was in her nature to press for an answer. Emerson shifted in her seat still searching for the right explanation for the outcome of her night. She sipped her coffee again trying to dodge the look she was receiving from across the table. With a heavy sigh, Charlotte resumed her typing and she felt some relief.

Her mind fluttered back to the patio of the lavish party from last night. The only fond memory she had there was with him, and yet so many others she rather forget. The hairs on her arms stood up as she thought about the creepy guy that had his hands all over her. She blamed her attire, the little number Charlotte had talked her into wearing. She blamed her lack of strength for not being able to push him away. She blamed herself for even agreeing to go to such a loathsome event that was filled with all sorts of indiscretions that would only be left with the poor victim as they shudder in the shower. Emerson set her cup down biting her lip at the thought.

Upon arriving home and sprinting for her room in the two bedroom apartment that her and Charlotte shared, she slammed the door and removed her clothes rapidly. She tossed them to the floor in frustration and headed for her personal bathroom and turned on the shower. The ice cold water turned warm and she stepped inside. She let the trickles of water fall down her body as suddenly she felt even more dirty than she had before she had stepped in. The events of the night had left her feeling betrayed and confused. Ghostly hands touched her forcely in her mind as she recalled the scene on the patio. Tears stung her eyes as she tried not to let it bother her, but it did. Nothing like this had ever happened to her. She never imagined something like it would, and tonight it had. Emerson began to cry and fell to the floor of the shower muffling her sobs as she hated herself and the fact that she had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Things could have gone much worse if it wasn't for him. He saved her and she was forever grateful for that. But the thought of his fist hitting her molester was too much. It was all too intense for the capacity she found herself in and her chest began to tighten. The disgusting fact remained that despite what had happened only her and him, James Preston, knew exactly what went down. Not a single soul that surrounded them knew or either cared, and it made her cry even harder.

Why had he cared though? Why did he come to her rescue when no one else would? Why him? He was mystery to her.

"Now you're frowning." Charlotte remarked and tilted her laptop screen down. She picked up her cup again and proceeded to hide behind it. "What is going on? You're like a wave of emotions over there. What the hell happened last night Reed?"

"Nothing." She shrugged.

This time the laptop shut and she knew Charlotte meant business. "Not an acceptable answer." She crossed her arms and leaned forward with her elbows resting on the table. Her inner reporter tried to get at the hard hitting questions and the hope for some answers shined bright. "I saw you last night. I saw you with that guy. What happened?"

"Nothing." Emerson repeated herself knowing this was not going to get her off the hook. She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "Fine. If you must know we just talked."

"Talked? But how? Did he approach you? Did you approach him?" She asked rapidly. "Wait, I highly doubt you approached him. The last time you made your move on a guy it didn't end well as I recall."

It was the eighth grade dance and Charlotte had been urging her to ask her crush to dance all night long. After enough persuasion and an internal pep talk, she walked over to him. As the words left her mouth, all she could remember the pretty faced boy had said was, "You're kidding, right?" followed by laughter from him and his group of friends. That was the only time and the last time she ever approached a guy. She was scarred for life since then.

"So he came up to you, how? What did he say?" Charlotte continued her line of questioning.

"Why does it matter to you?" Emerson whined.

"Because did you look at the guy? He was fucking gorgeous!" She exclaimed. "Not to mention he couldn't take his eyes off you when I finally found you last night."

She remembered that part very clearly. He stood there debating something as his eyes were permanently locked on her. His stare was uneasy, yet inviting at the same time. She would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy his company and his attention, but no matter how beautiful he was, something was off about him and it had bothered her ever since last night.

"Yes, I saw him Char. He was good looking, really good looking, but it was nothing." Emerson shrugged. "Can you please just drop this? What are you writing about again?"

"I told you about being a fly on a the wall at the exclusive party. The things I saw last night," she paused and shook her head. "Only that type of shit happens in the movies. It was nuts, but print worthy. And if you must know I am not going to drop this because mystery guy is one of my focuses, so spill the beans Reed."

"I don't want to be featured in your little entertainment piece." Her snapped.

Charlotte sat back in her chair and cocked her head to the side. "Entertainment piece? Ouch." She said harshly. "I thought you actually cared about what I did, what I wrote."

"I do, but last night was stupid. It was beyond stupid. It was repulsive." Emerson responded as she curled her legs up on the chair and she hugged them tight. "Please don't ever ask me to go to something like that again."

"Em, I don't understand."

"Write what you want, but I don't want to be any part of it. I would just like to forget last night, okay?" She snapped again.

"What is eating at you?" Charlotte asked.

Her eyes flickered up and she felt the threat of tears coming. She didn't want to shed anymore and nor did she want to say out loud what had almost happened, but Charlotte was never going to give up. She was persistent and she always got what she wanted, just like last night. Her quest was to find a story and she found one. She just didn't want to be any part of that headline, but maybe she should. Maybe she should tell her what happen. Maybe finally the truth about what really goes on in the Green Light district and it's extensive parties should come out for everyone to know. But would the public care? No one did last night. Only he did and that was all she needed, just that one person to notice and to care.

"Do you really want to know?" Emerson inhaled deeply. Charlotte's eyes lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July. "The mystery man approached me."

"Okay." She sounded interested. Her laptop reopened and she cringed.

Taking another deep breath, she continued, "Actually it was more like he came running toward me and pushed me out of the way before some sick fuck could molest me." Charlotte froze as she stared at her in horror. "Some guy, some drunken idiot decided that he needed to have his way with me out in the open and he almost did if it wasn't for James. He stopped him. He was the only person to see what was going on in the crowd of people."

"Oh my God, Em." She gasped.

"He hit him over and over again. I thought he was going to kill him." Emerson's voice shook. "I finally told him to stop and the rest is history. He stayed with me until I found you. He didn't trust me alone, not after that and I don't blame him. So there you have it. Mystery guy saves the day. There is your story."

Her hands shook and her chest was tight. A part of her felt better that she finally had told Charlotte what had happened, but another part of her wanted to curl up and just go numb. The expression of pure shock was on her friend's face as she didn't move a muscle. Not even her once eager fingers moved. She wondered if she even had the balls to include what she had just shared. Something like this was surely worthy for print, but judging by Charlotte's reaction, she seemed almost disgusted for even pushing her to tell her in the first place.

"Emerson, I..." She began.

The violent vibration of her phone on the table interrupted her and she picked up her phone that read, Dad. "Hello?" Emerson answered. "Emma, please tell me you aren't busy today." Her father's voice sounded desperate. All cooped up emotions from the night before vanished instantly as she groaned and rolled her eyes at her father's plea. She knew exactly where this phone call was going.

"Unfortunately, no." She answered dully.

"Good. I need you to come in and take Sandra's place. She called in sick last minute and I need someone to take notes for my meeting this afternoon. It's a big deal." He explained hastly. "Please honey."

From across the table she could see the regret in Charlotte's eyes and her forcefully biting her tongue. She too had heard this conversation more than once before. Her father's secretary was a repeat offender for not making important meetings and playing the sick card one too many times. Why her father hadn't fired her yet was beyond her? Somehow she was always picking up the pieces and not by choice she was always available.

"What time do you need me there?" Emerson asked trying to hide her annoyance.

"Ten o'clock." He responded. "Dress the part."

"Always do."

"Thank you, Emma." Her father's voiced soften. He was a rough man and dedicated to his work, but he had a kind side that rarely appeared on the surface. She adored this side and wished he would show it more. The love she had for her father was unconditional, but sometimes he was a hard man to love. Simply hearing him say her name, Emma, the only person to ever call her that made it next to impossible to ever say no to him.

Hanging up the phone, she saw the time on the oven. She had exactly an hour to get ready. Her father was a punctual person and so was she, so she knew she needed to get her ass moving or else. As she rose from the table, Charlotte sprung from her seat and threw her arms around her. "Em, I am so sorry about last night. If I had known..." She trailed off and sniffled. Oh no, not the water works from her. If she started to cry, she knew it would only stimulate her urge to do the same thinking about the awful memory. "Please forgive me. I won't publish that into my story. I promise. I would never do something like that to you."

"It's not your fault, Char." Emerson hugged her back.

"Yes, it is!" She released her and held her within arms length. "I should never have asked you to come. I should never have left your side."

"And what let you go by yourself and have something happen to you? No." A single tear trailed down her cheek. "You know I do anything for you. Last night was shitty, but it's over and I just want to forget about it."  
"At least someone was looking out for you last night." Charlotte sighed know exactly who she was referring to. "Go. I don't want to keep you from daddy dearest."

Emerson pulled into the lot of her father's office and parked her car. She checked the rearview mirror and patted her face. Thank God for dry shampoo. Seeing as she did not have time to fully get ready on such short noticed, she had to make do with the little time she had. Straightening her pencil skirt as she stepped out of her car, she felt more comfortable to be clothed in a way that wasn't so revealing. She hustled her way up to the front door and stormed past the reception desk, where some intern about her age clearly had been caught slacking on the job. By now, everyone knew who she was seeing as she made frequent appearances once a month. She could hear Charlotte somewhere off in the distance asking, "Why don't you just work for your dad? You know he offer your a job in a heart beat." As true as that statement was, it was far from what she wanted. Her father ran a successful small business dealing with high paying clients. The pay would be good and the offer had been extended multiple times, but she continued to deny it. She wanted to make a name for herself, not succeed under her father. The family business just wasn't for her.

"Conference room in ten." Her father shouted from his office as he noticed her down the hall. She gave him a thumbs up to assure she got the message and rummaged through Sandra's messy desk for a notepad and pen. Once she acquired her belongings, she headed to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee for her father. Her arrival was routine now. She knew exactly how things were suppose to go and what was expected and yet somehow his secretary, who had been working for him for nearly eight years still messed it up.

Entering the conference room, she opened the laptop and set the cup of coffee down next to it. She took her place beside where her father would soon occupy and waited. Ten minutes later, she heard his voice accompanied by two others. As she quickly noted the date at the top of the paper, she stood up and awaited to greet them. With his booming voice, her father enterted the room first followed by an older looking woman dressed in a plain purple dress. She smiled politely. As her eyes shifted from the elderly woman, she froze. Tall, beautiful, and dressed in a suit that fit him immaculately well, James Preston stood next to her father. His forced smirked softened as his gaze fell upon her from across the room. Out of all the people her father had to meet with, it had to be him.

"Mr. Preston and Mrs. Vaughn, this is my daughter, Emma." Her father gestured.

Would he say something? Would he remark about their brief meeting from the night before? Suddenly, she feared he would and hoped he would keep his lips sealed about the party. If her father found out she had gone to such a thing, she would be dead. Even at her young adult age, she was still her daddy's little girl in his eyes.

"Nice to meet you." Emerson stuck out her hand to the woman, Mrs. Vaughn and then to him. He shook it firmly fixated on her presence. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest and she quickly diverted her gaze to the table. Warmth flushed her cheeks and she tried to hide her reaction from her father.

All taking a seat at the same time, she felt his gaze glued to her. She wished he would find somewhere else to look, especially with her father sitting right next to her. If he noticed, she was sure this meeting would go badly. No man was allowed to lay eyes on her. No man was ever good enough for her according to her father, like that even mattered though. Her track record with guys was non-existent. The idea of bringing home a guy for her father to meet was down right terrifying and so far she had avoided the situation successfully.

"Mr. Preston, my secretary informed me that you needed to talk business, which is pretty vague if you ask me. So let's talk." Her father addressed him.

Leaning forward and folding his hands on the table, James divereted his attention away from her and to her father. She sighed some relief knowing he had not intentions of bringing up last night and she began to play her role as she wrote down all the important, dull details that they began to discuss. Her eyes fluttered upon him carefully making sure not to draw him away from where his attention should be held. His jaw line was strong as he spoke with confidence and control. His eyes glimmered under the floresence lights and she found her mouth gaping as she soaked in the image of him. He was even better looking in broad daylight than he was last night under the moon. She recalled their brief conversation from the patio and her cheeks grew warm. On cue, he glanced her way and she buried herself in note taking.

"Hold up, excuse me if I am wrong here, Mr. Preston, but it seems like you are trying to give me a sales pitch more than discuss the finer details of how I could assist you." Her father fell back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"I guess I should just cut to the chase." James sighed and licked his lips. "The thing is Mr. Reed, your retirement is within reach. My company has been looking into your business for sometime now and it's time you start thinking about your options."

The harsh exhale of her father's breath made her halt in her efforts to keep up. "Excuse me?" He asked in a tight voice. His tone bitter.

"It's time to talk merger or a buy out. The choice is yours." James responded not missing a beat.

"My age has nothing to do with my business and for your information, I have no plans of retiring any time soon." He snapped. She knew this tone well. Things were about to get ugly. "I'm sorry you came here under false pretenses, but my company is not up for discussion."

"I had a feeling you would say that. Here," A piece of paper slid over to him. Her father picked it up as James continued to speak with ease. "This is an overview of what your company's projections would like in the next ten years without my company and if you turn it over, that is what it would look with our company on board."

Silence radiated in the conference room. Her usual outspoken father was now quiet reflecting the double sides paper filled with percentages and dollar signs. It was unlike him to not say something and she began to worry. Her father was reaching retirement age and she knew that he could not do his job forever, but even she was surprised by the bold move James had offered.

"The numbers don't lie, Mr. Reed."

"I see that."

Was he actually debating his options? Did he even have a choice? At some point he was going to have to face the facts. Either his company would die with him or it would live on by another name. What he wanted was for it to live on with the family name, but Emerson knew her heart never would be fully in it. That was why she had denied the offer to work for him. She was afraid she would be stuck with the business if she did. Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought.

"Tell your people to shove it." Her father remarked as he pushed the paper back to him. "I don't care about your silly projections. This company will not be bought out by some adolescent like yourself."

"Mr. Reed, I suggest you take some time to think about this." James pushed the paper back.

The sound of it being ripped up startled her and she watched as her father scattered the tiny pieces all over the conference room table. "I don't need time to think about it." He barked. "The answer is no and never."

"We will see about that." His open threat became clear. Emerson gazed at him from across the table. His eyes burned into her father as he fixed the cufflinks on his suit jacket. Where was the man from last night that showed compassion? All she saw was a money hungry tycoon that was ready to pounce. His ever changing expression, poise, and demeanor made her frustrated. How could he be so kind one minute and then ready to destroy someone the next?

The ringing of the conference room phone broke the tension in the room as her father picked it up. He nodded his head and replied in one worded answers. She could see the whites of his knuckles as the anger from the conversation was effecting him. He was known for having a temper. Setting the phone down, he drew in a deep breath and messed with the button on his suit jacket. "I think we are done here." He stated. "Emma dear, would you see Mr. Preston and Mrs. Vaughn out."

"Sure." She replied.

Storming out of the room without even a handshake, she knew he was pissed. Whoever was demanding his time now was being gladly welcomed after the stunt James Preston had pulled. Honestly, she wasn't too fond of him either at the moment. As much as she wasn't keen on the idea of working for her father and taking over, she didn't like the thought his business being threatened. Who did he think he was?

"Mrs. Vaughn, could you take my things? I'll meet you at the car." He said softly to her. "I would like to have a quick word with Miss Reed."

What?! Emerson panicked at the thought of being alone with him. What could he possibly have to say to her? Would he try to convince her about his proposal? Would he ask her how she was after last night? Oh the possibilities of where this could go.

James rose from the table and opened the conference room door for Mrs. Vaughn as she exited. He closed the door behind her followed by the clicking of the lock. As he turned back around to face her, she felt something in the room shift.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3.**

James Preston, the man of mystery who had successfully saved her from an awful situation and rattled her normally strong father edged closer and closer to her. He placed his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and leaned up against the now locked door of the conference room. What was he playing out?

"If you're going to try to convince me to talk to my dad about your blunt and malicious proposal, save it." Emerson barked. He had a glimmer in his eye that she wanted to erase. Whatever her father's decision was, she would be no part of it. No one would persuade her otherwise, not even the handsome man that was before her.

"I would never do such a thing." He bowed his head.

"Then what is that you want?" She asked. Her heart raced causing her erratic breathing to be heard.

"I wanted to see how you were," he looked up from his long lashes, "after last night. I see you made it home fine seeing that you are here. "

So he was interested in her well being? How nice of him considering he barked up the wrong tree only moments before with her father. Her confliction toward him was nagging at her. She wanted to converse with the man from last night, not the man that had entered the room this morning. The negotiator had faded though. His expression had soften and his eyes were no longer filled with a business agenda, but one that made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"I'm fine." Emerson uttered and played with her hands in her lap. She bit the inside of her cheek and sighed. "Thank you for not bringing up the fact that we had met last night."

"And why would I do that?" James cocked his head to the side seeming to be amused by her observation.

"Because we did meet last night and it was a weird, not you, the night." She corrected herself and felt the betrayal of warmth rising in her cheeks that caused her to blush. "I just didn't want my father to get any ideas."

"Ideas?" He asked. No longer was he occupying the space by the door, but now striding toward her at a deliberately slow and long pace. His movement, his reactions, she was trying to figure him out. What was he up to exactly? This didn't feel like a sincere quest about her well being anymore. Nerves set in and she peered at the lock door again.

"I mean," she bit her lip trying to find the right words.

James took a seat next to her, where her father had previously sat. Deja vu from the patio washed over her as she took in his heavenly scent and perfectly crafted appearance. Wow, he really was a piece of work, a fine one at that, but his proximity was a little too close for comfort.

"He's overprotective. If he found out I went to that sort of thing, he would flip. Like full out bat shit crazy kind of flip. His temper can get the best of him." Emerson explained.

James chuckled and nodded his head. "I noticed." He remarked. Of course he knew that already. The fact that her father tore up his paper and stormed out of their meeting without even a goodbye was enough to know that he was a difficult man, but so was he. Who shows up to a party to retrieve their sister with personal help? She recalled his ill tempered manners toward his intoxicated sister. No mercy was shown on his behalf toward that subject last night. But that was just the icing on the cake as the image of him attacking her molester made her cringe. How violent, brooding, and territorial he could become within seconds took her breath away. The memory made her shiver and she shook it from her thoughts focusing on the now that presented itself before her.

"I'm sorry about that." She apologized even though she didn't know why. If anyone should be apologizing it was him. His deliberate tactic to get her father to succumb to his offer reinstated the frustration she had toward him and his need to have the upper hand.

"It's fine. I'm use to that sort of behavior in the business world." James noted. "I'm actually glad he left like he did."

"Oh?"

"It gave me some time to talk to you without disclosing our introduction from last night in front of your father." He said calmly. "And I meant it when I wanted to see if you were okay."

Sincerity oozed from his pours as he looked at her with his big beautiful eyes and deep concern written across his face. For the first time in short amount of time of being in his presence again, she believed him. There he was, mister tall, dark, and mysterious who cared for her when no one else did. It baffled her to think that anyone could in such a intense atmosphere clouded with substance that altered everything and anything. She thanked her lucky stars and knew she was forever in his debt for saving her like he did just in the knick of time.

"I'm fine." She answered once more.

"Are you?" James gazed at her tilting his head to the side. His attempt to see past the facade of her well kept together lie was working. The walls she had recently put up to hide away the scary truth and the horrible memory were crumbling fast. Deep down, she knew it was still fresh on her mind and no matter how many times she scrubbed her skin, the dirt of the sick fuck would never come off.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He spoke in a near whisper. "But if you do, I'm more than happy to listen."

What a complete one eighty he had done. With his shoulders high and his chin up in the air as he walked through the doors, he slouched now and lowered his gaze to meet hers. What was he doing to her? One moment she wanted to reach across the table and slap him for being such an arrogant ass to her father and the next she wanted to kiss him feverishly from head to toe. He was a man of mystery who was driving her nuts in all sorts of ways.

"It's okay to not be okay." James reached out and grabbed her hand.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. She repeatedly said to herself as his touch ignited a familiar feeling she thought was lost in the depth of her soul. The heat rose to her cheeks flushing them a shade of red she didn't want him to see and she pulled her hand away from his grasp. He was right, she wasn't okay and she wasn't okay with not being okay. Nor did she want to talk about it. Fear bundled up inside of her knowing a case of the waterworks was just below the surface if she dwelled on the matter much more, and he didn't need to see her like that too. Emerson channeled her inner confidence she tended to lack and buried her emotional distraught.

"Why did you lock the door?" She asked in an almost panicky voice.

James sat up straight and fixed the sleeves on his suit coat. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes briefly before he reopened them penetrating her with the most confused look ever. "I didn't want to be disturbed." He spoke with discomfort. "Force of habit, I guess."

"Okay." She didn't know how else to reply. His action was odd and had made her imagination run wild for a mere second, but now she was completely puzzled by it.

"I should let you get back to work. Don't want to keep the old man waiting on my part." James rose from the table and plastered his best attempt at looking professional. "We already know I'm on his bad side. I don't want you to be too."

"I can handle my father."

Gathering her things off the table, she stood finding herself only inches away from him. He did not move, nor did he acknowledge the fact to step aside. Instead, he gazed down at her and she caught sight of his tongue dart out and lick his bottom lip. Emerson gasped quietly and felt the heat in the room rise abruptly. With a polite smile, she shuffled around him and felt his hand grab her upper arm. This time she didn't bother to hide her reaction.

"Don't," he murmured and then silenced himself leaving her in his grasp again unable to move from his touch. His eyes were directing their gaze toward her mouth, but quickly flickered back up to her. Pain, confliction, and something almost haunting swept across his beautiful face. What in the world was going on with him?

"Don't what?" Emerson desired to know what was going on inside his head.

"Never mind."

"Look if you have something to say, just say it." She demanded. "Otherwise, I really should be going."

His mouth formed into a hard line. Two perfect wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he concentrated and internally debated what he would say next. She was on the edge of her seat waiting for him to say something, anything. Out in the hallway, she could hear the footsteps of someone approaching. James must have heard it too because he removed her from his hold and flipped the switch immediately. Mister business extradonaire peeked out from behind the curtains and was ready to take the stage.

"Promise me you won't get talked in to going to anymore parties like that one." His voice sounded desperate.

What promise did she have to abide by with an almost total stranger? She could damn well please go wherever she wanted, but she knew that wasn't her scene. After last night, she never wanted to see the Green Light District or its charades again.

"I promise." She humored him and turned away.

Trying not to trip over herself, she made her way to the conference room door gracefully and unlocked it. James glided effortlessly toward her and out the door with his chin up high in the air again. _Arrogant ass, _she thought to herself and caught her eyes fall down the back of his suit as he walked in front of her and glued them to his perfectly formed behind. Emerson bit her lip and diverted her wandering eyes away as he turned the corner.

"It was good to see you again, Emerson." James stuck out his hand. She took it firmly just like her father had taught her when exchanging a handshake under business terms.

"You too, James." She said shyly and cracked a smile.

"Seriously, try to stay out of trouble." He responded loud enough for her to hear.

"I'll do by best."

As he walked away, she studied him taking in one last look of him. Down the hall the sound of her father's beckoning call broke her from her delicious trance. Even three offices down she could see the familiar look upon his face that she wished she didn't have to endure. He motioned for her to join him in his office and reluctantly she obeyed.

Shutting his big wooden office door behind her, he stood up from his desk and began to pace the room. "Can you believe the nerve of that bastard?" He cursed.

"Dad." Emerson disapproved of his fowl language that the entire building probably heard.

"Give up my company to some twenty-nine year old wannabe who has no fucking idea what he's doing!" He shouted. "Over my dead body, literally!"

"Dad!" She shouted back. "Not everyone needs to hear you."

He groaned and fell into his oversized leather chair. "Geez, I'm sorry Emma." He apologized. "It's just I can't stand to think of someone threatening this business, my job, you."

"Me? He wasn't threatening me?" She found a seat opposite of him letting his desk buffer the following tension.

"This is your future Emma, or it could be if you just let it happen."

Holding her hands up, she drew in a deep breath before she spoke. She had lost count of how many times they had this conversation about her taking over the family business. The warning signs were flashing all around her telling her to put a stop to it before it escalated into a fight that she did not want to have right now. Her emotions were everywhere and she was afraid she might burst at the seams.

"Dad, you know how I feel about this topic. Can we stop beating it to death?" She pleaded with frustration filling her voice. "Can you accept the idea that maybe I want to do something else? Maybe make a name for myself."

"Emma, I know that and I know how hard you've been looking, but the answer is right within reach." He leaned forward. This wasn't her father talking, this was the business man speaking. "You'll never have to worry about finances or answering to anyone but yourself."

"And how do you know that I won't run this company into the ground?" She asked.

"Because if you are anything like your old man and your mother," he paused in reflection. Her mother was a hard subject for the both of them. "You can do this. I know you can."

She sighed. "Dad, I appreciate your confidence in me and this company, but the answer is always going to be no." Her heart broke seeing his face drop in defeat. "And maybe it's time that you start thinking about the future of this company without me in the picture, you know?"

The sound of the leather on his chair shifting below him filled the gap of silence between them as she found herself trying to search for the right words. "Maybe it's time you start looking for someone or weighing your options."

"I thought you were in that conference room a bit longer than usual." Her father mumbled to himself as he tapped his chin with his index finger. "What did that bastard say to you? Please don't tell me he got through to you."

"What? No!" Emerson exclaimed.

"Damn it!" He shouted and slammed his hand on his desk. "He did. Young fucking bastard trying to use my own daughter against me."

"You have it all wrong." She defended herself. If only he knew what they were really takling about in the conference room. Honestly, she thought her father hadn't noticed their brief alone time considering his outrage from earlier. She had just assumed he had dived into another business matter to take his mind of things. Clearly, that wasn't the case.

"I saw the way he looked at you." His tone became bitter. "It's guys like him that you should steer clear of Emma. He's no good, manipulative, and probably a charming son of a bitch. What did he say to you to get you to go over to the dark side?"

"Nothing! Jesus Dad." Emerson snapped.

"Well he said something because I would have never expected you of all people to tell me to start thinking about the future of my company like that."

So maybe James's proposal wasn't completely out of line. Her father did need to start planning for his retirement. He did need to start training someone to replace him since she had no desire to occupy that position. Even at his age, he still had a few good years in him to dominate the business world, but eventually his time of reign would have to end.

"For your information, he said nothing about the matter." She confidently spoke looking him dead in the eye.

"Hmm." He nodded his head. _Oh no. _"Then enlighten me on what you two did talk about if I was not the topic of conversation." Any confidence she had just gathered to face her father was now shattered all over the floor. _Shit__._


End file.
